


Malady

by Elsian



Series: A Fond Companion [2]
Category: Becoming Jane (2007), Jane Eyre (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:57:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsian/pseuds/Elsian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It always starts so small. </p>
<p>An AU of my actual Rofroy verse., A Fond Companion, in which things go rather more poorly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Malady

Tom was curled up next to Edward, a book in both of their hands and situated by the fire in Edward's study now that the servants had long gone to bed. It had become customary for Tom to stand up and move his body to be tucked against the older man. They rarely spoke in this time, simply drinking their brandy and reading their chosen material, content to simply be with each other. The present evening was no different, Tom having kicked off his boots and moving ton lean against his lover, jostling him as he did so, to which Edward merely grunted and moved one arm around the younger mans shoulders, whilst Tom turned a page of his book and let out a small cough.

That was the first sign.

\-------------------------------- ------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------

Edward slipped into the library quietly, not intended to startle Tom out of his repose, the younger man deeply immersed in a book he was reading, sat at the large table that he often chose to do his work at when he had still been in training as a lawyer. Now he was qualified, and was reading up as much as he could on local history in order to set up practice in the nearby town. Edward had told him it was completely unnecessary, of course, but Tom refused to be his kept boy and was adamant on getting his own business set up to support his family and himself. Edward had to admire the young mans fortitude, even if it would please him greatly if Tom would simply let him care for him. It was just not in his nature though.

He walked to the young man slowly, running his hand along the table as he did so. Tom looked up as he approached, smiling and leaning up from his book. Edward rested his hand on Tom's shoulder and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“A history of cattle farming? Is that an interesting read my love?” Edward joked, squeezing Tom's fingers as the other caught his hand, leaning back in his chair and looking up. 

“Unfortunately not, but it is a necessity I am afraid. I will likely be unpopular as a lawyer from out of town as it is, so I have to make myself as knowledgeable on the local history as I possibly can. It is a sad thing that the friend that I am staying with is rather unsociable, and so doesn't have any connections that would be useful too me.” Tom gave a small grin to Edward, before turning his head aside to clear his throat. 

Edward sat down next to him, pulling Tom around for a proper kiss as he did so. Tom closed his eyes and let the other man draw him in, using his tongue to trace Edwards lips and gain access to his mouth, gripping his waistcoat and pulling him flush up against his body. Edwards hand ran up his thigh, fingers teasing the crease between thigh and groin, but only hovering there and Tom groaned, biting at Edwards lip.

“Don't tease me so Edward.” he murmured against his lips, moving his hands to rest on the others shoulders. 

“I have no idea what you are on about Thomas.” Edward smirked, kissing him and wrapping an arm around his waist. Tom surged up, resting a knee on his seat so he was looming over Edward, a rare thing indeed, and cupped his cheeks as he pushed their mouths and bodies together. The older man let his hands slide down to cup Tom's buttocks and with a screech of the seats, lifted him and placed him on the table with no regard for his earlier text, whilst Tom lifted his legs to embrace Edwards waist, knowing it was a particular favourite of his lovers.

Only to quickly push the older man away as a fit of coughing seized him. He turned away from Edward as fast as he could, one hand covering his mouth whilst the other held his chest. It lasted for sometime and Tom was mildly aware of Edward holding him, stroking his back gently and soothing him through it. He smiled weakly at his lover once it was over, still feeling a little weak. Edward did not return the smile.

“Are you alright?” He demanded, brash as ever when he was worried, lines creasing his forehead already as he frowned. Tom scowled and shook his head.

“I know that look. Do not fret so my love. It is likely these ridiculously dusty books.” He smiled at Edward once more and sat up straight. “You see, I am fine now. It has passed.”

Edward did not look convinced, so Tom hooked his fingers into the top of the man’s breeches and pulled him between his legs, gripping his hair tightly as he pulled him down into a passionate kiss, vigour renewed. 

“I am fine Edward, really. Now I am very bored of reading the laws of the land and I think this table could be providing us with some ulterior use.” he narrowed his eyes at Edward in a manner not unlike the women of the whorehouses that he used to spend so much of his time with, and it appeared to have the desired effect as Edward pulled his shirt collar aside to mouth at his neck. Tom groaned and gripped at the other man's hair as he kissed his way down to his collarbone, pushing Tom back against the table and running a hand up his waist.

Tom was only thankful that Edward had not seen him wipe the blood from his hand onto his breeches. It would only make him anxious.

\----------- ---------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------------

The water in his wash bowl was tinged red where he had spat into it, and Tom had been staring at it for around five whole minutes, leaning over the counter in the small wash room. It was barely visible, the water barely light pink and a brief glance would have probably had you miss it entirely, but Tom felt as if the colour was burning into his retinas, the only thing that he would ever be able to see from that day forward. 

He was startled from his stupor by a knock at the door, and Edwards voice carried through following it, noticeably irritable.

“Come along Tom. You are taking an age. It is bad enough that we have to hold this blasted dinner without you shirking all your duties by hiding away in the wash room. You are a far better host than I.” 

Tom splashed some of the spoilt water onto his face, smiling at his Edward, reliably grumpy as ever.

“I shall be out any moment Edward. Please go downstairs, I shall honestly follow you soon.” 

He straightened and looked to the mirror, his cheeks slightly flushed from the cold water, and his eyes bright, drops of water clinging to his lashes. Smiling at his reflection, he took the bowl and threw the water from the window, laughing slightly at himself. He'd likely cut his throat slightly, after all the blood barely made a mark in the water and his coughing had not been as bad lately. He was most likely getting a cold, but making a fuss over nothing. Edward always said he had a flair for the dramatic.

He continued to tell himself this as he pulled on his coat and descended to the lobby to help his moody companion entertain his largely unwanted guests.  
\------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------- --------------- ----------------

“Well I help Edward with his bookkeeping and the general maintenance of his library. It was in the most appalling state when I arrived here, Miss Bishop, honestly you should have seen it!” Tom gave his lover a sly grin even as he charmed the daughter of the mayor of the town, who had requested to join Mr Rochester and his young companion for dinner sometime. Edward had avoided it for as long as possible, as was in his contemptuous nature, but Tom had convinced him that it might be a good thing, and the sooner it happened, the sooner it was over with. The mayor was unlikely to drop the issue with Edward being the richest man within fifty miles. 

Begrudgingly, he had admitted Tom was correct and had extended the Mayor and his family and invitation to dinner, which had gone a lot better than he was expecting. The previous mayor and he had not gotten along so well, having believe Edward should take more of an active role in the social and political aspects of the town, and expressed this opinion to the Master of Thornfield often and with increasing venom as time went on. It had not helped that Edward had firmly informed the man where he could place his honourable suggestion, but he was not one to to be bullied or coerced into doing anything he did not want to.

Although he was apparently seduced into doing them quite easily. 

The dinner had gone smoothly, with Tom easily drawing everyone into conversation and rather easily seducing both the Mayor's daughter and wife with his words, as he was apt to do. Edward frowned, but he had complete and utter faith in Tom and his loyalty to him, even if he was a most terrible flirt. However, the way he would rest his hand on Edwards shoulder when he stood to retrieve another bottle of wine for them, his fingers brushing against the older's man's neck discreetly, reassured him entirely and Edward had to actively stop himself from reaching up to take the other man's hand.

He had to admit, it did not do so much harm for Tom to play the flirt. If he was known for being popular amongst the female accumulation of the town, it would keep aspersions being cast over them and their association. Edward would never say that he was ashamed of Tom, but they both knew the ramifications if anyone was to become aware of their relationship. 

Dinner wore on, and when they had finished, Edward suggested that they move to the sitting room, where a fire had been lit and they could sit and talk in comfort, perhaps taking some tea or brandy, to which the Mayor and his family were most amenable. They made their way to the sitting room, the Mayor rambling on to Edward about a local so-in-so who had taken to stealing items of washing from peoples lines when they were not looking, a matter in which Edward had no interest whatsoever, but he nodded and laughed when it seemed that the man wanted him so, keeping a firm eye on Tom, who was walking ahead of him with the Mayor's daughters arm locked onto his own. She was smiling and laughing as he likely kept her engaged in his usual witty banter, but he seemed to be swaying ever so slightly, and the need to protect rose in Edward once more, even unwanted as it was. The mayor looked to him, curious and looked to his daughter and Tom also.

“She is quite taken with that young lad, my Winnie. He is trustworthy I assume?” 

The mayor ventured, and Edward felt anger rise in him at the implication, before forcing it down once more, knowing it was of no use becoming vexed. It seemed Tom had had something of a calming effect on him since his arrival at Thornfield, and he found himself thinking of the Mayor's interpretation rather than leaping to conclusions, as he was so prone to do. He supposed, had he a daughter, he would be concerned for Tom's reputation too. There was no denying that before he had found Edward he would have likely already have the woman's heart in his hand and her body in his bed.

“He is smooth-tongued, but I can assure you that your daughter will leave her with her honour intact. Tom is simply friendly.” He gave the man an insincere smile, not that he would be able to tell it was so since Edward was rather disinclined to smile at anyone other than his lover, insincere or otherwise. 

He couldn't help the smug satisfaction though when Tom made his way to sit by Edward once they were situated in the living room, and he caught the disappointed look on Winifred Bishops face as she was pulled down to sit by her mother. However it soon dissipated when he looked to Tom's face, and saw just how pale the man had become, the harsh light of the fire making his face appear gaunt, his eyes sunken and dark. Tom's demeanour had not changed however, although his voice had grown noticeably wearier since the last time he and Edward had spoke directly.

“I shall fetch us our drinks.” he offered, standing from the seat that he had only just taken. “ What can I get for our esteemed guests?”

The family placed their requests with the young man, apparently not noticing his diminishing colour and he walked to the cabinet to fetch the tumblers and brandy that they had all opted for. 

“I shall help you bring the glasses over, it shall save a tray.” Edward said, excuse feeble but he stood and made his way to the young man, who was leaning rather heavily on the hand resting on the cabinet. He had his eyes closed, one hand on the bottle of brandy and as he drew closer, Edward could see he was trembling ever so slightly. He rested a hand on his elbow, unable to do anything further without arousing suspicion.

“Thomas, you are not well.” he murmured.

Tom opened his eyes, but did not look to the taller man, instead focusing on pouring the drinks into the glasses. 

“Do not be silly Edward I am merely tired.” His statement was somewhat undermined when he had to swiftly turn to the side to cover his mouth as he was seized by a coughing fit and Edward gently placed a hand on his back, rubbing softly with no regard for the family sitting behind them. 

“Thomas are you alright?” Winnie's voice ventured softly as Tom's coughing began to ease, and they had all turned to face the young man and the master of the house, the Mayor out of his seat but not yet moving towards them. 

Tom looked at them over his shoulder weakly, eyes watery. 

“I can assure you my lady, I am completely fine. Mr Rochester simply frets far too much.” Tom said shakily. Edward would have taken the time to reply in a scathing manner, had he not been far too involved in Tom's hands, which were still cupped not so far from the younger man's chest. He gently took his wrist, and pulled the hand away, turning his face away in agony as he confirmed what he had thought he'd seen.

There was blood in Tom's palms. A significant amount of it. He swiftly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the red liquid from his hands, shoving the cloth away as though wiping it away resolved the issue. Edward was not one to let it go that easily though, not when it came to this.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Edwards voice was low, but Tom shook his head.

“Please Edward, not now. We can discuss this later, once your guests have left, but please not here...” Tom pushed past the other man and retrieved the drinks that he had been preparing for their company, stepping towards the sofas once more. 

“Come, let us enjoy our drinks, and you and I can talk more on this later. I can assure you however, that I am perfectly fine.” He made to walk back to the seating area, but Edward gripped his elbow once more, stopping him in his tracks.

Edward pressed a large hand against his forehead with no regard for their present company, who were watching with morbid interest as events unfolded.

“Tom, you are burning up! How long has it been like this?” He demanded. Tom did not answer him though, or even turn to look at the older man. There was little warning as the young man went crashing to the floor as his legs crumpled beneath him, the glasses of brandy smashing into many tiny pieces and soaking the floor.

The Mayor and his family rushed over, Winnie particularly flustered as Mrs Fairfax and another young girl burst in through the door. Edward paid none of them any attention, crouching down to his unconscious lover, brushing away any glass that might do him harm. Slipping his arms beneath the fallen mans leg's and back, he hoisted him in his arms, cradling him close to his chest. 

He was surprisingly light, lighter than Edward remembered in fact and how had he not noticed that he had gotten thinner. Now he looked more closely, he could see that Tom's waistcoat hung a little looser, his breeches not clinging so closely to his skin as they used to and he felt ashamed that he had not noticed these things earlier, despite having been living with the other man for nearly seven months now.

“I am sorry to cut our evening short, but as you can see my companion Mr Lefroy is very unwell. Perhaps you may join us again sometime, it has been an honour, but for now I must attend to Mr Lefroy. Mrs Fairfax will show you out.” he said tartly, before carrying Tom out of the room, not giving his guest a second glance. 

Distantly, he could hear Mrs Fairfax apologising for him but it was a hum at the back of his mind as he focused on carrying Tom's prone form up to his bedroom, where he could get him comfortable and tend to his fever. He would call for the doctor first thing in the morning, and get Tom the best care money could buy. 

He sat up with Tom all night, desperately hoping that it wasn't what he feared.

\----------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------

When Tom had awoke the next morning, pale and clammy to a doctor hovering over his bed the first thing he did was to scowl at Edward, who was stood the side, arms folded over his chest. 

Tom pulled himself up in the bed, and waved the man away. 

“Honestly Edward. You did not have to call the doctor out. You worry far too much.” Tom scolded, attempting to get out of the bed. Edward made to retort, but was cut off by the doctor himself, who also placed a hand firmly on Tom's chest, preventing him from exiting the bed. 

“I understand that you are a somewhat stubborn soul Mr Lefroy, but all the same Mr Rochester called me out here because he was worried for you, and having been informed of your symptoms, I gave to say I am inclined to agree. If all is well as you claim it to be, then having a check up will be of no problem now will it? And if we can assure Mr Rochester here that you are in good health, he is more likely to leave you alone I imagine.” The doctor winked at Tom, who sighed and smiled at the friendly old man, however there was still a touch of worry to his features.

“I supposed you would be right...” He conceded. Edward smiled at Tom, who sat back in the bed once more, but somehow Tom's acquiescence did not feel like a victory. 

The doctor looked between the two men, before retrieving his bag and placing it on the bedside cabinet, readying to begin his examination.

“I am sorry Mr Rochester, but I will have to request that you would leave the room, if you would.” He said, more a demand than a request. Edward was inclined to argue, but as he looked over to Tom, the younger man simply mouthed 'please' at him, before turning his eyes away as he picked idly at the loose threads on the blankets.

“Very well. I shall be outside.” He nodded and left the room.

The following half hour felt like the longest that Edward had ever known, and he had to stop himself from pacing in front of the door several times. Mrs Fairfax walked past him twice, but did not utter a word, only looking to the room with a sad look on her face before continuing on to wherever it was she had been headed to. Various servants passed to and from the room, but none of them dared make eye contract with their Master during this time. Edward wasn't sure if he was grateful for it or if he hated them for their weakness.

Finally the door opened, and the doctor stepped out with his large black bag in hand, closing the heavy door behind him. Edward stood as he emerged.

The doctor looked to him and sighed before taking him aside, and suddenly everything was happening far too fast for Edward's liking. He did not want to hear what the doctor had to say at all, but time, it appeared, was his enemy this day.

“I am sorry Mr Rochester, but it is consumption, just as I, and I suspect yourself, had feared. I can provide some medicines that may help ease the pain, but other than that....” The man trailed off, and Edward hated him for it. He was a doctor, he was supposed to know what to do, what to say, he was supposed to be able to help Tom, cure him. 

Right now it simply felt like he was proclaiming his death sentence, and Edward desperately wanted to hit something. His fists clenched at his side, but there was nothing else he could do. 

The doctor placed a hand on his arm in a what he supposed was a comforting gesture, but Edward could barely feel it, as though he was not quite within his own body, not quite aware. 

“I am sorry Mr Rochester. I truly am. However, although he does not show it, I think the boy had taken it rather hard. It would not do well for him to be alone right now.” The doctor straightened, obviously preparing to leave, and Edward grew furious, enraged that he had decided there was no more to be done.

“Taken it rather hard? You have just told him that he is going to die. Was he supposed to take it well, I wonder? You will do nothing for him now, simply leave him to his fate, but I presume you shall still expect to be paid in full for your minimal services. Get out of my home this instant, take your money and do not expect any custom from Thornfield ever again.” he snarled, turned and entering the bedroom with a slam, ignoring the look of shock on the poor doctors face. He went straight to Tom, who was still sat in the bed.

“He did not deserve that Edward.” Tom said softly. 

“I know.” Edward whispered. 

Tom smiled at him gently, his smile still bright in his wan face, and opened his arms to the older man. Edward stared at him for a brief moment before sinking into his arms, pushing his face into his chest as his tears began to fall, not wishing Tom to see, even though he was perfectly aware of Edward's anguish. He held him close and rubbed his shoulders soothingly as the man's body heaved with his despair. Tom simply held him and pressed kissed to his head, until the man cried himself out and fell asleep in the younger man's lap, his fingers still carding through his hair long after he'd closed his eyes.

“I am so sorry, my love.” He murmured into the silent room.

\-------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------- --------------

The days passed into weeks, and Tom's condition deteriorated with a speed that frightened Edward near stupid. There were times when he was unable to leave his bed at all, and the days on which this happened were growing all the more regular. Edward spent as much time with Tom as he possibly could, taking all his meals at Tom's bedside when the younger man was unable to leave the room and spending his evenings reading with Tom in his arms. He'd always been affectionate with his lover, but now it was as though he was stuck to Tom, never parting from him unless absolutely necessary. 

This had led to many arguments between them, having been a tempestuous pair even in the best of times, and there was no exception even whilst Tom was ill. Edwards tendency to fuss and make decisions for him grated on him until he would snap, whilst Edward felt that Tom was still too docile and relaxed towards everything and anything, letting things happened as they come rather than prepare for any eventualities. It would often result in one of the other storming from the room in a great rage to god-knows-where, returning much later humbled and eager for the others arms, although it was rare that an actual apology was ever uttered by either of them.

More often than not now though, it was Edward who would storm from the room, Tom being too weak to do so, although he could still raise his voice with the best of them if he was provoked. 

Tom was stood by the window that day, feeling better than he had in some time, looking out of the window at Thornfield's extensive lands.

“I am feeling quite well today Edward, I do not see why you are so opposed to this! The fresh air would surely do me some good if nothing else. I feel you are still worrying over me far too much. I have not been able to leave this room in days! I want to go outside!” Tom spat, not looking at his lover who was situated on the other side of the room, conveniently between Tom and the door.

“You have only felt this was for one day Tom. You are still weak, and lord knows what could happen. Winter grows closer and already some of the staff have been taken by the flu. If you were to catch cold on top of this, I might lose you sooner rather than later and that is something I do not wish to risk!” Edward argued back, stepping toward the young man.

Tom turned to face him.

“It is not your risk to take Edward! I am sick and tired of staring at these same four walls with only you for company. I love you Edward, you know I do, but I do not want this rule to my life, or what remains of it.” Tom's voice cracked as he spoke, and tears gathered in his eyes, before he sat on the window seat and buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking but otherwise silent.

Edward was unsure of what to do. The whole time he had been sick, Tom had been strong. He'd made jokes, tolerated having to stay inside when his legs would not support him, comforted Edward when he had been unable to deal with the knowledge that the man he loved was going to die and cuddled up to Edward and simply enjoyed his company as he has always done. Edward had admired his strength and determination to stay normal and enjoy life whilst his could.

It had never occurred to him that Tom might be in denial. 

Slowly, he walked over to the window, and took Tom's hand, pulling him over to the bed and then down into his arms. As much as he wanted to scream, cry and rage at the world, he knew he had to be strong for Tom now, it was his turn to support his lover, and the more he thought about it, the more ashamed he grew at how selfish he had been over the past few months. He ran his hands up and down Tom's shoulders, stroking his skin through his shirt as Tom gripped at his waistcoat and pressed his face into his chest.

“Talk to me Tom.” he said gently, kissing the top of his head. 

Tom coughed weakly, and lifted his head to press his forehead against Edwards shoulder. 

“I don't want to die.” he said quietly, so quietly Edward almost missed it completely. “I don't want to die Edward. Every time we have discussed this, you have always said I would be cared for when you pass on, that you would always be the one to leave me since you are so much older. But now I am going to die, I never opened my practice, I never learnt how to shoot properly and I am going to leave you all alone.” He spoke hurriedly, words muffled into Edwards shoulder, and still gasping from his tears but the older man could still hear him, despite it all. 

“Nobody...Nobody wants to die Tom.” Edward replied softly, still holding the young man tightly in his arms. 

“I know that Edward, I'm not a fool.” And even in his grief, Tom was still Tom. “Its just...you have been so alone for so long. I promised you I would be there now. It was going to be you and me, and now I'm going to break that promise. I never thought I would break that promise.” His last words were barely audible, but it did not matter, Edward heard them still. He turned to Tom, cupping his cheek and making him look him in the eyes.

“Do not worry about me Tom, for God's sake. I have been selfish these past months” he pushed a finger against Tom's lips as he went to deny it. “Do not argue, it is true. I have been so caught up in losing you that I have not taken care of you whilst you are still here. So from now on, when you feel well enough, we shall do what you want to do and nothing else. You are my only priority from now on, and though I cannot promise that I shall be perfect, I will do my utmost to make you happy.” He wiped a tear away with his thumb as it made its way down Tom's cheek. 

“Now what do you want to do, my love?” 

Tom gave him a watery smile, and ducked his head.  
“I want to go outside, and have lunch under our favourite tree, and then tonight I want you to read to me from that ridiculous tome you've been trudging through. However, right now, I want to take a short nap, and I want you to hold me as I do so.” 

Edward smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“That I can do.” He pulled the blanket over them, with no regard for their day wear which they still had on, and Tom tucked himself firmly under Edward's chin.

“I love you Edward.” he murmured as he dozed off.

He did not wake up.

\------------------------------------------------ ---------------------------------------------------------------

Tom's funeral was a quiet affair, with no more than ten guests.

The mayor and his family were not among them.

Edward had barely spoken a word to anyone in the days following Tom's death, the last anyone could claim to have heard from him being his anguished cry when he woke to find his lover cold and unmoving in his arms. He was clad in black for the entirety of the week and only leaving his study when absolutely necessary, often ignoring meals. He refused to go near the left wing of the house, where Tom's room had been near his own, having taken to sleeping in his study.

One of Tom's friends from London had come down to say his goodbyes, and Edward could barely muster the energy to look at him, never mind the anger he supposed he should have felt that the man could come for the funeral, but was unable to make it to see Tom whilst he still lived. The man had informed him another companion of his had come down with the disease, and that there had been an outbreak of it in London since Tom had made his departure for Thornfield, but it was of little comfort to Edward to know how Tom had contracted the disease, all he cared was that it had taken him from him, well before his time. He had barely uttered a word at the man, and he finally gave up, leaving Edward to his grief.

The day passed by in a blur, and Edward was thankful when he could collapse into his chair by the fire, his body feeling more weary and worn than it had in sometime. It was as if Tom had taken all the life from Edward with him, and he was nothing more than a wandering husk.

Mrs Fairfax seemed to have come in and left again without Edwards notice, since when he looked to the side there was some bread and cheese left for him, as well as a glass of brandy as was customary for his evenings.

It looked so peculiar on its own.

He turned away from the sustenance, having no stomach for it. His eyes felt heavy and his mind tired, and all he wished to do was sleep. He turned his head, coughing briefly into his hand before he closed his eyes and fell asleep in front of the fire.


End file.
